


Cuisine You Can't Katoh

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Emprise du Lion (Dragon Age), Established Relationship, F/M, Fingers In Mouths, Impact Play, Iron Bull is sweet and protective, Lace is a lucky bitch, Public Sex, Safewords, Shameless Smut, Shock and Trauma, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Humiliation, and also sexy dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29751405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The Emprise Du Lion is the worst place Lace Harding has ever gone, and the Inquisition has sent her to some shitty places. Luckily, she finds Iron Bull in the kitchens, and he knows exactly what Lace needs even when she doesn't.
Relationships: Lace Harding/The Iron Bull
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	Cuisine You Can't Katoh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/gifts).



> Happy smutquisition Sunny! <3 <3 I hope you enjoy all the fingers in butts!

The Emprise du Lion is, by far, the worst place Lace Harding has scouted. 

Sure. The Hissing Wastes had nothing but sand and _more_ sand. Then the Western Approach took all that sandy nothing and added in poisonous hot springs. The Fallow Mire had been full of undead and she _still_ hadn’t quite dried out from the Storm Coast But all of that pales in comparison to the sheer horror waiting in the Emprise. She’s never seen people look so desperate, never seen people half turned into Red Lyrium, never been so _damn_ cold. 

It’s starting to get to her by the time she arrives at their newest Keep, freshly cleared of templars and demons and who knows what else. The Inquisition’s banners flutter in the icy wind and she shivers underneath them. 

“Get some rest, Harding.” Inquisitor Cadash mops her brow with the back of her hand, somehow still going when everyone else is dead on their feet or dead in their soul. 

Cadash doesn’t have to tell her twice. Lace retreats from the mass grave they’re digging for the miners dead in the quarry below with all the red lyrium growing out their skeletons. It whispers in her mind, drives her deep into the fortress. 

She doesn’t realize she’s looking for him until she finds him. 

He’s in the kitchen. _Of course he’s in the kitchen_. It’s the only room that’s warm, a fire crackling merrily away in the big fireplace, but there’s no trace of food. Maybe the templars and demons didn’t need to eat real food. Maybe she didn’t want to know what they ate. 

“We won’t be cooking a feast down here tonight,” Bull rumbles, dropping a dirty cloth into a bucket of suspiciously rusty colored water. “But it’s clean, at least.” 

“You've been down here scrubbing the kitchen?” she asks into the loaded silence. 

Something flashes in his eye before it vanishes, but in the second she sees it Harding feels like she’s stepped into a violent storm, one that’s far too dangerous to venture out in. 

“I was the only one who didn’t lose their rations when we came down here.” 

Lace swallows, hard. “That bad?” 

“Well, it didn’t have a tiny redhead in it until recently. So it’s improving by the minute.” 

The corner of her mouth lifts, but she knows it doesn’t do much to brighten the numbness on every inch of her face. Bull notes the little twitch and sighs, scratching at his own stubbled jaw with that weary resignation. “That bad, huh?” he repeats. 

“It’s cold,” she grumbles, crossing her arms under her chest. “And I’m still not getting paid enough.” 

“I know a way to warm you up,” Bull offers easily. “And you can think of it as employment benefits.” 

Bull _definitely_ knows ways to warm her up, and a part of her wants it. She’ll feel alive, she’ll feel pleasure or pain, hell, at least she’ll feel _something_. But it seems wrong, almost, to feel anything at all in this gruesome place. 

“Is now the right time?” she asks, gesturing vaguely as if to encompass everything around her. 

Bull’s eyes go dark. She could almost say they’re feral. “I don’t think you get to pick what time works for you, Little Red. I thought you remembered the rules.” 

Something lurches in her stomach. She looks over her shoulder at the door. The _unlocked_ door. “Bull, what if someone comes in?” 

“Then they’re gonna see you for what you really are, aren’t they?” he taunts with a wicked, almost cruel smirk. “You’re _mine_ , and maybe everybody ought to know it.”

That shouldn’t make her veins light up with desire, but they do anyway. Like he can read her mind, Bull gestures her closer. Lace’s boots are glued to the ground, too proud and too numb to carry her onward. She shakes her head and Bull’s grin sharpens. 

“Never thought I’d see the day Lace Harding couldn’t follow orders.” 

She doesn’t bother to swallow down her bright burst of temper. “At least I wasn’t on kitchen duty.” 

The dark laughter that falls from his lips should scare her, but it doesn’t. It curls inside her stomach like fire. “Is that how you want to play it? Cause I’m gonna take what I want from you and nobody is here to stop me.” 

Her breath catches in her throat. The door is at her back, she can leave, she can-

Before she makes up her mind, Bull makes his move. He’s so large it takes only two long strides for him to cross the room and tower above her. He growls his command. “On your knees, Little Red.” 

Her tongue darts out, licks at her lips nervously, while her heart thuds unevenly in her throat. Bull looms over her, all trace of the genial mercenary lover gone, leaving nothing but a cruel killer behind. The fear makes her break out in gooseflesh, causes another pulse of desire between her legs even as she whispers one word. “ _No_.” 

For a moment, there’s only silence. Bull grins viciously down at her. Lace takes one reflexive step back and he laughs again. “Have it your way.” 

She twists to run and he grabs her easily around the waist, hauling her up off the ground and throwing her over one huge shoulder. She gasps and immediately begins to struggle, her knees jabbing into his ribcage. He chuckles again just before a loud crack rings through the room and her ass throbs even through her pants. 

She feels that throbbing the whole way to her cunt. 

Bull throws her down on the rustic wooden table hard enough that the breath is driven out of her lungs. Still, she scrambles at the rough wooden planks to push herself up. All she can smell is the soap he used to clean and the tang of danger. Before she can look over her shoulder, his hand, large enough to curl around her skull and crush it in his grip, fists into her braid and pulls her upward. 

His voice in her ear makes her shiver, her fingers tightening into white knuckled fists. Instead of the dark, commanding tone she expects, he’s soft. _Gentle_.

“Remember your word, Lace?” 

Her word, _Katoh_. It sits in her mouth like an unspoken promise. She swallows it and nods as best she can with him pulling her hair back like a bridle. 

“Good,” he sounds pleased with her, and that’s enough to send another lick of heat down her spine. “You say it, this stops. Got it?” 

She nods again as best she can. The seconds stretch on in silence while she gasps for breath, pinned on the table beneath him, aching and frightened and so turned on she can barely breathe past it. This is her chance to stop this insanity before someone comes down and finds Bull fucking her against her will on a table. 

...except she doesn’t stop him. Instead she thrashes against his grip, bright pinpricks of pain on her scalp as her braids are pulled. “Let me go!” she demands. 

His teeth close on the lobe of her ear sending another sharp bite of both pain and pleasure to the knot in her stomach. Then his tongue dances over the lobe and she hears him snarl.

“No.” His free hand grabs her ass and squeezes just the right side of too hard. “You’re my little Dwarven slut, and you’re going to take what I give you. And you’re going to like it, isn’t that right?”

The words come to her tongue immediately. “Fuck y-” 

The impact of his hand on her ass startles all the breath from her again. His large fingers dive beneath the waistband of her pants and tug so forcibly something rips. Then his hand is on her bare ass. “I’m gonna,” he declares smugly, “and there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

Before she can resist another smack on her unprotected skin makes her cry out. He releases her hair but then his fingers are at her lips, pressing into her mouth relentlessly. She can do nothing but allow it as he maneuvers her body like a doll’s until her ass hangs just over the edge of the table, her toes barely scraping the floor. 

He tugs her pants down harshly, fingers thrusting into her mouth. She can taste the lingering soap on them, the salt of his skin. Her teeth graze them and he growls a warning before his hand smacks her ass so hard she jolts painfully into the table. “Don’t even try it, Little Red, unless you want to see how much you can take.” 

She doesn’t think. She acts. 

Her teeth think into his thick skin, not enough to break it, but enough that Bull hisses above her. His hand lays into her ass with enough force to make her scream around his fingers. She hears something clink, she can’t be sure but she believes it’s a buckle. Then his hands are gone from her lips, her ass, and leather is winding around her wrists. It must be his belt, or the thing that slings over his shoulder, because the material is still warm from his skin. It cuts into her flesh when he pulls it tight.

“You want to act like an untrained whore,” he snarls, “you’ll get treated like one.” 

She resumes her struggles, but they’re meaningless. His hand comes down on her ass at the same time the other digs into her braids and wrenches her head up. “Count,” he orders.

“Never,” she spits. 

His hand falls again, then twice more in rapid succession until she chokes on a scream. Her skin burns but her cunt throbs. He is hurting her, more than he’s ever hurt her, and she _loves_ it. 

“I keep going, you’re not gonna be able to sit on a horse,” he taunts. Another blow makes her gasp for breath. “They’re all gonna know you were down here getting your ass reamed by me.” 

The next smack makes the scream burst through her control. It echoes, too loud, in the kitchen along with her weak, pitiful command. “Stop.” 

“Count,” Bull growls, kneading her stinging flesh until she sobs. His hand falls again and the number falls through her swollen lips.

“One,” she whimpers. Bull laughs, quickly bringing his hand down again. She counts each one in between sobs and gasps. The pain goes right to her core, burns bright and beautiful, until she finally gasps out one last number. She doesn’t even know what it is, all she knows is she aches and throbs with need.

His finger drags along her slit roughly. “Dripping wet just like a little slut should be.” 

She shakes her head in denial only to have his fingers pushed roughly back between her lips. She can taste herself on them, the betrayal of her body, and it only makes her wetter. 

She feels the oil drip over her ass and shakes her head as much as she can with Bull’s fingers thrusting in and out again. He removes them obligingly, but she suspects it’s only because he wants to hear her beg. “Bull, please, no-” 

“This is my ass, Little Red. It’s about time you learned that.” 

His fingers impale her with little warning. It’s not the first time he’s touched her there, but it still feels that way at first. His fingers are so large for a moment she can do nothing but moan and rasp for breath. He fucks her with them, in and out, covering her in the oil he’s spilled over her hole. Her cunt clenches on emptiness, desperate to be filled the same way. 

“Don’t-” she pleads, knowing it doesn’t matter. Knowing that she can’t stop this (and at the same time need only say one thing to stop this) makes the begging taste sweet. “Please, don’t fuck my ass, I can’t-” 

He ignores her. His fingers withdrawal and then she feels the thick head of his cock between her ass, slicked in the same oil. “You beg so pretty, Lace. I love to hear it.” 

His fingers dig into her ass and spread her wide. “But not as much as I love to hear you scream.” 

Then he begins the slow, steady thrust onwards. The burning stretch of him is exquisite just as much as it’s overwhelming. He’s relentless, thrusting shallowly while she mewls pathetically beneath him. “Such a tight little Dwarven ass,” he groans. “Bet your scouts would love to see how it takes my cock.” 

She opens her mouth to protest, only to be effectively silenced by the first brutal snap of his hips. She wails instead, awash in sensation, and Bull reaches around her to cruelly pinch a nipple until she cries out. 

“Almost there, Little Red.” He punctuates that with another smack of his hand on her sore ass, one that jolts her forward. 

“You can’t!” Panic claws at her throat. He’s never gone the whole way before. He’s too big, he-

Another smack that makes her scream. “Watch me.” 

He lifts her easily off the table. She’s a rag doll in his arms, her bound arms against his chest while he uses her like she’s nothing but a toy. She feels him driving deeper with each thrust, the breath punched out of her lungs . She’s helpless, she can do nothing but take him until he finally buries himself to the hilt inside her snug ass. 

The groan that comes from above her almost feels like a victory. One hand moves her up and down his cock slowly, using her for his pleasure, and she can feel the overwhelming press of him in every nerve. 

His pace picks up slowly but steadily. Her moans catch in her throat, then turn to ragged panting before they become sharp cries. He takes her with little thought to her comfort or her pleasure. In fact, he fucks her like she’s nothing but the slut he claims. 

He can see the evidence of how wet this makes her when his fingers find her clit. It takes only a few rough strokes to light her nerves up and have her shuddering and trembling against the cage of his body. He drives her higher, tormenting her ruthlessly with pleasure while he fucks her so hard tears fall down her face. 

Then, with a bellow of his own, he buries his cock inside her ass and begins to fill her with thick, hot seed. His fingers twist her clit and she shatters with another hoarse scream, shaking and thrashing against him while he comes inside her ass. 

For a moment he holds her to him. Then he buries his nose in her braids and inhales her greedily. “That’s my girl.” 

She makes a quiet noise of assent as he gently lays her back on the table. His cock slips from within her and she feels something soft wiping the mess between her legs away at the same time the belt releases her wrists. Before she can even push herself up on shaky arms he’s bundling her up in his. 

She hardly has time to blink before she’s on a stool in front of the roaring hearth, a blanket tucked around her from Maker knows where, and Bull’s knuckles rubbing against her cheek while he kneels beside her. 

“You alright there, Little Red?” 

She licks her lips and nods, smiling slightly. “Better, actually.” 

A moment of silence. Then he nods, almost thoughtfully. “Yeah, me too.” 

They sit in quiet for a moment while she leans into the soft brush of his calloused hand on her cheek. Then he sighs in satisfaction and stretches. “Bet I could rustle up some eggs for us.” 

“Eggs sound nice,” she murmurs drowsily. “Always liked your eggs in camp.” 

“That’s me.” Bull smirks, his eyes flashing with good humor. “Cuisine you can’t Katoh.” 

Lace laughs, actually laughs, for the first time since she’s gotten to the Emprise while she melts in front of the fire in the tender glow of Bull’s warmth. 

It almost feels like it could be home. Someday. Maybe. 

**Author's Note:**

> May I recommend some more smut? Check out the rest of the ["Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition" Exchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2021_smutquisition)!


End file.
